


Beyond the window

by HoneyChips4090



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson (Broadway Cast) Actor RPF
Genre: Accidental Death, Alive Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Connor Murphy Lives (Dear Evan Hansen), Dead Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Gen, Ghost Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, References to Groundhog Day - All Media Types, Suicide Attempt, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyChips4090/pseuds/HoneyChips4090
Summary: What if?A question I often ask myself.What if I had told the truth before it became too much?But I never know the answer.What if I told Connor about the letters to myself?Could things have been different..What if I never broke my arm?I don't know..What if I died falling out of that tree?If I could change the pastChange everything I did...But that's impossibleThough I can't help but think if it was possible.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Acorns can become saplings

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Today isn't. It just isn't.** **it doesn't feel good or bad, it feels numb.**

 **I don't know how to think, or feel anymore. If I didn't break my arm.** **If I didn't cause that mess h** **e would be alive.** **College sucks and I want to go home.**

No. That doesn't sound good.

**The more I think about the past the more I start to hate myself.**

That's worse, but.. somehow better.

 **I just want the thoughts to stop flooding my mind.** **If I don't write again, know that I'm gone.**

I close my laptop, and stand. The window is right there. So I open it. I look down, then at my door, then back down and out the window.

I take a deep breath in. Leaning more and more out the window.

"Sincerely, me."

My body falls, endlessly, I keep my eyes closed. A splat. That's what I'll be.

Waiting.

Expecting a painful impact.

Falling through the air, through the sky.

Sun shining down on my tears.

Things get blurrier and blurrier.

I black out.

There's a tunnel, and a light.

But I can't go toward it. It's getting further and further away from me.

I feel myself pulled backwards, and close my eyes.

..

...

....

I open my eyes. A bright light is shining in my face. I use a hand to shield myself, and squint to see what the light is.

The light is my laptop. I move a bit closer to see what's written on it.

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

...that's the way I start my letters.

Moving my left hand to lift the laptop off my lap, I notice that it feels stiff and restricted. Turning my head to see if my arm's asleep- but it isn't.

It's in a cast. That's odd.

The only time it was in a cast was because I fell out of a tree, though it's strange that it's in another one. Maybe I broke my arm again instead of dying? It's possible. Though this isn't a hospital bed. It's my room.

"So you decided not to eat last night?"

I turn towards the voice. It's my mom, holding a twenty dollar bill, standing over me looking disappointed.

"I don't know what you mean mom."

She sighs. "Honey, come on. When I'm at work you need to be able to order dinner. You know you don't have to talk to anyone, it's all online now."

This is.. familiar. Like _extremely_ familiar. I feel like I'm having deja vu, this conversation has happened before. I try to grasp what this feeling is. Mom could probably read my expression.

"Were you not feeling well?" She puts her hand on my forehead. Not detecting any cold sweats or fevers, she sighs. "You're supposed to be working on engaging with people. You know what your therapist said."

I sit myself on the side of my bed.

"Speaking of him, I've booked an appointment with Dr. Sherman for this afternoon."

"T-Today? Why? I-" This feels more and more suspicious. Is my life flashing before my eyes? Am I on some sort of drugs and think I'm Spiderman? No. I don't take anything but Ativan..

She stares down at the twenty. "I thought that maybe you could use something a bit earlier."

I look over at the mirror, I'm biting my nails. I look younger too. This situation.. It's my past. How am I here? Why am I here? My mind racks over the issue and tries to think of possible answers, but it can't.

She looks at my map, but stays quiet about the lack of pins. "I'll pick you up right after school, I promise. Remember to write those letters to yourself for Dr. Sherman. Evan, you really should keep up with those."

"Yeah, of course, um.. I was just working on one. And I can finish it at school." I say, snapping myself out of thought.

"Those letters are important, they help you build your confidence. Especially on the first day."

I nod to her. "Maybe I can get someone at school to sign my cast too.. Is that a good way to break the ice?"

Mom smiles and hands me a sharpie. "That's exactly what I was thinking hun. Today is the day to seize the day."

I gently take the sharpie from her.

"I'm proud of you hun." She says as she heads for the door.

"Thanks, mom." I awkwardly reply.

Her smile brightens, and she walks off.

I quickly grab my laptop and start searching for answers on the internet. Looking up various things that could help me.

**Deja vu after suicide.**

Nothing.

**Reliving the past.**

Nope. Nothing that feels relevant.

**Repeating days or day of the past.**

A few things pop up.

I scroll through the search results, and something catches my eye.

I'll look at it later. I should probably go to school.

I close my laptop.


	2. Bath bombs can be pleasant

I stare at my closed locker, gripping the sharpie with a sweaty hand. I need to be confident. Breathe in, and out. In.. out. I should _engage_ with others. I _can engage_ with people.

I'll have to let people see me this time, if it even is a repeat of that day, I shouldn't do the exact same thing I did.

I make my way to the water foutnain, my mouth feels dry. I see Alana Beck, and wave awkwardly to her. She's talking to me. I need to interact.

"How was your summer?" She asks, waving back.

"My summer?" I had nearly forgotten I was taking care of a park.

"I did three internships, ninety hours of community service. I was productive- I know, wow."

I breathe in, confidence. "It is, and my summer was-"

"Even though I was incredibly busy, I still made some friends."

"Were they more like aquaintances?"

She grins. "Yeah! Exactly! There was this girl.."

My heart is pounding, this- this feeling.. anxiety. But- good anxiety.

Like I did something right, something good.

"...and also-"

"Hey," I lift my cast. "Do you want to sign my cast?"

"Oh my god." Alana's eyes go wide. "What happened to your arm?"

I take the sharpie out of my pocket. "I was an apprentice park ranger for the summer, and I climbed a tree because I wanted to see the view. But I fell out of it by mistake."

"Oh, really? My grandma broke her hip getting into the tub in July. That was the beginning of the end-"

"That sounds terrible Alana, but you should have a good first day."

"Oh, thanks!" She says, smiling more. "Happy first day!"

I step back, but the sharpie is knocked out of my hand. I bend down to pick it up, and in her place is Jared.

He's talking about something vulgar about me breaking my arm, but I ignore it and hold out the sharpie. "I can tell you what happened, if you're interested."

"Not really." He says.

"I was an apprentice park ranger for the summer, and I feel out of a tree."

"You fell out of a tree? What are you, like-

"An acorn?"

"An acorn." I say at the same time, with a smile.

He stares at me. "You're in a good mood, what happened? Did Zoe Murphy acknowledge your existence?"

"No, I want to have a good day for once. So, how was your summer?"

"Well then, my bunk.."

I listen with intent, handing him the sharpie.

"..what do you want me to do with this."

"I want you to sign my cast."

He laughs, right in my face. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because I don't want to be _just_ family friends, I want to be friends."

He snorts, handing me back the sharpie. "Tell your mom to tell my mom I was nice to you, okay? I want to pay my car insurance."

He walks away and I sigh, my efforts fruitless so far.

Seizing the day? It's harder than I thought it would be.

The bell rings, and I make it to class on time. I feel invigorated. I did better than I did originally. Maybe I can make this day better after all.


	3. The Acorn and the Mockingbird I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My palms got sweaty when I wrote this chapter.

After correcting my name in all of my classes, I felt alright. But lunch. I forgot it at home, so I follow Jared to the food line.

"We meet again." He says.

"I was thinking that I'd sit with you, besides, I forgot my lunch today."

Jared looked at me as if both pitying me and ready to vomit at me. I knew he was about to deny me, but then he vanishes. A dark shape in front of him.

Behold. The elusive Connor Murphy.

Watch him as he walks through us, head low, unaware and unwilling to look at his surroundings.

Jared and I watch as this creature strides past us.

"Love the new hair length," Jared mutters. "Very.. school-shooter chic."

I sigh. _Please Jared..._

Connor halts, turning on his heels with his boots landing with a thud. What little I can see of his eyes through his hair- it's depressing. Dull blue eyes, not knowing when they'll stop seeing.

He definitely heard Jared, but he doesn't move. He's just staring at us.

I don't know what expression my face had- but his softened a bit after seeing it.

Jared might be a dick, but he's not dumb. "I was kidding." He says to him. "It was a joke."

"Yeah, _no_ , it was _funny_ ," Connor spits. "I'm **_laughing._** Can't you tell?"

Jared looks like he's going to piss his pants.

"Am I not **laughing** hard enough for you?" Connor growls.

Jared began to laugh, nervously. Which almost made me laugh too. I bite my tounge to stop myself.

"You're such a freak dude." Jared scoffs, darting away. I'm shaking. Any confidence I had just melted away.

Connor steps to me, and I take a step back. "You think I'm a freak?"

"No." I collect myself.

"I'm not the freak."

"You aren't." I stay as calm as I can.

"You're-" He stops, taking a moment to register what I just said. "You're.. not the fucking freak. He is."

I slip on someone's spilt yogurt.

I'm on the floor. Connor is still standing.

His black bracelets clink. He almost considered helping me. He looks as surprised I feel.

Before he walks off, he glances at me. I sit up with my hands, the dirt and dust of many sneakers now on my wet palms.

People step around me, gossiping in surprise, and adding unhelpful commentary to the situation. But it doesn't matter, I almost saw something in Connor.

I force myself to stand, I'm not going to let myself stay there. I have to change the outcome of today.

"Hey, are you alright?"

I turn my head, there, is Zoe. Yeah. _The_ Zoe Murphy.

"I'm fine, actually. I slipped on something." I say quickly.

"I'm sorry about my brother. He causes trouble. A lot of trouble." She sighs.

"Yeah- no. Don't worry about me. He didn't do anything."

She nods slowly, like I'm an insane person.

I wipe my hands on my pants.

"Evan, right?"

"Huh- oh. Yeah, that's- that is my name. Sorry."

"Well." She puts out her hand to shake. "I'm Zoe."

I hesitate, then shake her hand. "Yeah- I know."

"You know?"

"I've seen you play in jazz band. You were nice. Sorry if that sounds odd."

"You apologize a lot."

"I do?"

She laughs.

I laugh too, nervously. My palms are sweaty again.

"I should get going. My lunch is getting cold."

"Of course. Well, er- see you soon?"

"Yeah, see you soon."

For once, I didn't feel _meh_. She walks away, and I watch her go step by step.

After all that. I forgot that I didn't have lunch.

• • •

"I know I'm supposed to pick you up, but I'm stuck at the hospital. Erica called in with the flu."

I listen to my mom as she talks on the phone with me. "That's ok mom," I say. "I can take the bus."

"That's perfect."

"Don't forget- there's Trader Joe's dumplings in the freezer. Eat something, hun."

"Alright."

"Did you finish that letter yet?"

I stare at the computer screen. "Yes." I said, like a liar. "I'm printing it out right now."

"I hope today was good for you sweetheart."

"Yeah, it was nice." Two classes left. And only a few minutes to fix my mistake. "Bye mom, don't run late."

"Okay honey, see you. I love you."

Her voice stops.

I need to type up something that won't be mistaken as stalker-ish.

In front of me, on the screen, is just my name. Evan Hansen. Me. That's something I can change.

I place my hands on the keys, time to make a change.

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**It turns out, this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't going to be an amazing week or an amazing year.**

**This year is going to be okay. Because I tried, and I actually had the courage to talk to Zoe. Someone I always wanted to befriend, but never got the opportunity for it. If we can talk, then maybe- maybe things will get better. I have faith in Zoe.**

**Things are going to be different, I'm going to try to be a part of something. Things that I'm going to say are going to matter, to someone. And if I disappeared: people would notice, right?**

**Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, Me**

I hit print and feel a rush of excitement. Things will change. I'm going to make a change. I mean, I might be second guessing, but that doesn't matter right now. I'm going to make a difference and change the course of a horrible series of lies.

Maybe I'll even get a friend out of it.

I turn around, anxious to reach the printer, but instead, I stop before bumping into Connor Murphy. I flinch, expecting to be shoved this time, but I was relieved that he wasn't hostile.

"So," Connor speaks up. "What happened?"

"To my arm?"

He glances down. "Yeah, your arm."

"Well.." I begin. "I was working as an apprentice park ranger this summer, and one morning I was doing my rounds, and I saw this amazing forty-foot-tall tree. It was an oak tree. And I suddenly had the urge to climb it. But I fell. It's not very funny though, because I layed on the ground for a good ten minutes waiting for someone to come find me. But nobody came."

Connor stares at me, but his reaction when I finish surpried me. He didn't laugh.

"You fell out of a tree?" Connor asks. "It sounds like you wanted to kill yourself."

He isn't wrong.

"Take my advice, you shouldn't tell people that. Come up with something better."

I nod.

"Just say you were battling some racist dude." His voice quiets down.

"To.. kill a mockingbird, right?"

"Yeah- the book. And at the end, remember? Jem and Scout are running away.."

I watch him as he rattles off about the ending, he almost looks a little excited as he speaks.

Connor brushes his hair out of his face, he spots my cast. "No one's signed your cast."

I look down at it. "I've tried all day but people don't seem to care."

He shrugs. "I can sign it."

"I have a sharpie." I hold it out to him.

Connor bites off the cap and lifts up my arm. I look dead at my cast, hearing the squeak of the pen against it. Watching as Connor treats each letter as its own little Picasso.

"Voilà," Conner declares, completing his masterpiece. Stretching up the entire length of my cast are six capital letters. Big ones.

 ** _CONNOR_**.

He nods, admiring his handwork. I'm not going to ruin this twice. "Thank you, you.. really made my day."

He lets the cap plap into his hand, slides it back on the tip and hands me the marker. "Now we can both pretend we have friends."

I give him a weak smile. "Good point."

"By the way-" Connor reaches for a piece of paper under his arm.

_Oh no._

"Is this yours? I found it on the printer. 'Dear Evan Hansen.' That's you right?"

I die on the inside. "That? Yeah.. it's.. just some writing."

"You're a writer?"

I hear someone choke on their drink, I never noticed that there was someone else in this room.

"No, not really. It's not, like, for..." I trail off.

He reads more and his expression changes. " 'I have faith in Zoe.' " He looks up. Confused, but cold stare. "Is this about my sister."

I ruined it. I did it again. He's going to kill himself. "No.. I-I just.. your sister.. I just.."

He courners me to the computer desk, my butt probably making the keys type out outegzwu5wpl sjgupts6orslhaf on the empty word document.

"I'm not fucking dumb."

"I'm sorry."

"You thought it," Connor spits.

"N-No."

"Don't fucking lie. I know what this is. You wrote this because you knew that I would find it."

"Th-Therap-"

"You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab not playing Run 3, so you wrote this and printed it out so I would find it."

I start to tear up. "N-No-"

"I would read some creepy and depressing shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?"

I squeak.

"And then you can tell everyone that I'm crazy, right?"

I don't have the words anymore.

He shoves a stiff bird right in my face. "Fuck you."

Those words still weak, I'm not worth the effort.

I never was.

"D-Don't.." I whimper.

But he's gone.

_Don't kill yourself.. please. It's just a letter. My letter. My therapist's assignment to me._

But I can't get those words out, I can't go after him.

It's happening all over again.


	4. Window of Time

My hand taps nervously on my leg as Dr. Sherman reads my letter. I had typed up and printed another letter, truthful to my situation but kept vauge.

Hands covered in sweat, heart pounding as I wait for any words or comments by my therapist. "If I could be given a chance to change something I regret doing," I told him. "Something I never had a chance to fix in the first place, would I be able to change anything at all?"

"Let's play this out," Dr. Sherman says. "If this chance gives you several opportunities, would you be able to fix it with the best outcome?"

The true answer? I don't have a clue how many opportunities I have. Besides, I haven't figured out if I'm dead or alive. Senior year was something I already passed, and I'm unsure if I want to do it again. I have zero control over this whole thing. I did try, but the outcome is the same.

The answer I gave him: "I'm not exactly sure."

Dr. Sherman leans back in his chair and clicks his pen. "Alright, then, how about this? If you were given the chance to relive one day over and over again, would you be willing to change yourself to improve upon the things you're unsatisfied with- would you put in the effort to make a better decision?"

I shake my head. "I don't know."

I left his office without any feeling of progression.

• • •

I can't believe I'm doing this, I'm climbing up the side of the Murphy's house. My palms working against me as they become slippery with my own sweat, but I keep climbing.

I have to get to Connor's window.

Higher.

"Come on." I mumble to myself.

_Higher._

My right hand almost slips off of the gutter- but I squeeze my legs together to prevent myself from falling down.

**_Higher._ **

I grab onto the window's ledge, my hands feel close to letting go. I glance down at the concrete sidewalk.

_This is my last chance._

I tap on the glass, quiet at first, them louder. My ears tune in to the sound of something being put down, and then the thudding of footsteps coming towards my location. I hold onto the gutter for dear life.

The window opens- it's Connor. He stares at me as if I'm some small annoyance he couldn't bother dealing with. I take in a shaky breath, use words, that's all I need to do. Just. Use. Words.

I open my mouth. "Connor-"

"What the fuck are you doing on the side of my house?"

My hands drip with sweat, I lose an inch that I'd climbed.

"I'm-"

"How the hell do you know where I live?"

"I've-" I slip down another inch. "I'm stopping-"

Connor growls in frustration. "Eat shit and die, sister stalker."

I'm off the gutter. Heading to the ground.

Falling.

Window. Open. Above me.

Boot. Force. Direct hit.

Face. Pain. No words.

_Oh no._

I'm falling.

_The sidewalk._

I close my eyes.


	5. Bath bombs can be bribed

I open my eyes.

I'm not a mess on the sidewalk of the Murphy household. I'm home, in my room, with my laptop on my lap.

Rub my hands together- not sweaty. But they are now that I've thought about it. I turn back to my laptop, still only my name, and nothing else. Since I feel fine- and not at all in pain- I type a little bit in the letter. A head start is what I need.

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Today will be better than yesterday. Why would that be?**

**Oh, I know, because I'm not going to let myself fail. I'm going to do better today, it will be my priority to have at least two or more people sign my cast. Maybe Jared, then whoever else I can make myself seen to. Things will be different.**

I glance over my shoulder, mom is reading what I wrote. In her hand is the twenty dollar bill. _"B_ _uild your confidence"_ that's what she said before.

"If you're wondering why I didn't use the twenty, that's because-" My mind thought back to the phone call. "..because I had some Trader Joe's dumplings from the freezer."

Mom looks up from the laptop screen, handing me the twenty. "Sweetheart that's fine, you can use it for later today, or maybe the next time I'm going to be home late." She tells me. "I'll grab you a sharpie. Today, you're going to seize the day." She's smiling.

"I'll finish the letter at school."

"That's perfect honey," Mom gives me the sharpie, squeezing my hands in hers. "You are going to have a great first day."

 _I hope so._ I think to myself as I put the marker in my pocket.

"I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Sherman in yhe afternoon. He'll love to see that letter and the signatures."

I nod. "Of course, have a good day at work mom."

She kisses my forehead, then exits my room. I think her mood was brighter than yesterday.

I close my laptop.

• • •

I make my pit stop to the water fountain a bit early. If this day is going to constantly loop, I might as well try to figure out Alana.

My sharpie leaves my pocket, entering my hand, and becoming outstretched to her.

Alana stares at the sharpie. I lift up my cast.

"Could you sign it please?"

"Oh my god," She turns her gaze to my arm. "What happened?"

"I broke it over the summer. At a park I was working at. As an apprentice ranger." I say quickly, not giving her a chance to interrupt me.

She takes the marker. "So how did it break?"

"A bear." I blurt out. "I saw a bear. A-And I climbed a tree before it had the chance to spot me. They're incredibly strong, and bear attacks can be lethal."

She listens.

"After some time, I couldn't see it from the tree, so I tried to climb down- but I fell."

Alana picks the side of my cast, where my wrist is (specifically near my pinky finger), and writes her name in small cursive letters. "I did ninety hours of community service..."

I nod, taking the marker back. Connor's advice is good for something. "I guess your break was really productive.." I say.

"I know, right?" Her smile never falters, not even once. "Happy first day!" She spins around, and the marker is knocked out of my hand.

Again.

I pick it up, and bam, Jared's there.

"Hey."

"Dude did you just get a girl to sign your broken jerk off arm? Okay, paint me the picture..." He stares going off.

I stop him, and hold up my arm. "I promised my mom that I'd get your name on my cast."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Yeah sure, just give me like fifteen bucks then." He says sarcastically.

I present the twenty. 

"Do you want to hear how I broke it?"

He takes the sharpie. "Nah, not really." His headphones are playing something as he looks for a spot to sign.

"I climbed up a tree, and fell." I say as I listen to the faint music.

_A brass instrument- no- maybe a bassoon? Maybe some maracas too, and some kind of guitar that I can't identify... Some drums kick in after a few seconds._

"You fell out of a tree?" He pops the cap off. "What are you, like, an-"

"Acorn? Maybe."

I look at the signature, Jared's handwriting is a bit messy. He chose a spot where it wouldn't be seen. I hand him the twenty in return. "I'll tell my mom to tell yours that you were nice."

"Thanks, I'll be able to pay my car insurance."

"Your car insurance." I speak at the same time. "Yeah, I know."

Jared gives me a look "You're weird."

"Be careful at lunch, okay?"

He tosses the sharpie back to me before walking away. "Whatever dork."

I make it to class three minutes before the bell rings, getting myself the perfect desk. Feeling very accomplished with two names on my cast. How's that for seizing the day?

I'll just have to make sure Jared doesn't make that school shooter joke during lunch.


	6. The Acorn and the Mockingbird II

The bell for lunch rings, everyone shuffles out of class. I stay behind though. Waiting until the classroom is completely empty- except for the teacher and myself- which doesn't take long.

I shuffle out of my seat with my bag, forcing my legs to walk towards the teacher's desk.

The teacher looks up, seeing me, it's like she's disappointed to see me: a student that stayed behind because of some small thing that had to wait for the end of class to bring up.

I use all my strength to bring up the words I've been waiting to say. "Excuse me, ma'am, but.. I'd like to be called Evan. Not Mark."

She looks at the attendance sheet, then back at me. "Hansen.. Alright, I can do that. Enjoy lunch." Her voice isn't speaking _to_ me, it's speaking _at_ me. Those words being a default response.

"Thanks." I speak quietly, making my way out of her class and to the cafeteria.

Name? Check.

Lunch? Brought it.

I locate Jared with his lunch tray at the food line, so I wait for him at the register. He arrives, standing to the left of me.

"Ah, mighty time wizard. We meet again." He says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "What am I 'to beware of saying' here exactly?"

I don't answer him. That instinct of letting him walk away is back, I ignore it. But there's this feeling that doesn't feel right at all. "Could I sit with you today?"

Jared scrunches his nose, and makes a gagging motion. Before he can deny me for the third time officially in my life, he's hidden by a dark shroud in between us.

It's Connor Murphy, low headed and disassociative to his surroundings. Jared and I watch him go.

"Love the new hair length." Jared mutters, leaning near me. "Very school-"

I panic. Logic all out the window.

Something, I need to do _something_ to stop Jared from making that joke. My mind scrambles to think of anything- any way to stop him.

I force my arm to move. Covering his mouth, that would work. Right?

It didn't.

He was too close to me, and on the wrong side. My left arm jolts up with such force that the cast elbows Jared's chin.

It's split open. Blood pours out of the wound I created on him. I force my arm back down, but that’s all I can move. I'm paralyzed with shock and fear.

Jared cringes in pain.

" _What_. _The_. _**F**_ _ **uck. Evan**_."

Connor stares at us, snapped out of that trance he was previously in.

A forceful bomb blast.

I'm on the ground. Jared is standing above. Not a real bomb. Jared's fist, clenched tightly in fury, slammed into my eye and knocked me off my feet.

"You're such a fucking freak," Jared hisses to me, stomping away. I should be able to get up, but I can't move my body.

I did something really stupid, why do I do stupid things when I'm nervous. Everything I do is stupid.

Connor stares down at me, judging.

I'm a nobody that everyone saw.

And laughed at.

My eyes dart around. Jared exits the cafeteria. Everyone staring at me. Zoe nowhere to be seen. Connor still starring, burning holes in my head with his gaze.

_You think I'm a freak._

He looks away.

_I'm not the freak..._

His boots turn with a thud, darting away from me.

_I'm not._

People walk by, stepping around me, making unhelpful and snarky comments. I can hear them. Like when I heard the wind when I fell from the tree in Ellison Park. I should have stayed in my room instead of falling out of a window. Hiding is all I want to do. It's safe. Why is this all happening to me?

_"Look at him."_

_"Wow. That's fucking pathetic."_

_"Who would want to be friends with a jerk?"_

_I'm..._

_"Zoe, don't bother with that guy."_

_Stop staring._

_"Yeah, he probably did that on purpose."_

_Stop..._

I make eye contact with Zoe, she turns away, going back to her table.

My heart shatters.

I'm left with a loneliness so overpowering that it threatens to seep from my eyes.

_I have no one._

• • •

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Why do I try amymore? All I ever do is mess everything up, no matter what it is, it becomes ruined. Effort that makes no impact at all.**

**Therapy isn't helping. These letters aren't helping.**

**Nobody would notice if I disappeared tomorrow.**

**Sincerely, your friend, Me**

I don't even bother reading it back or printing it. My head hides in my arms. The eye- bruised black and blue from Jared- is now red and puffy as I fail to hold back tears.

I can't be okay anymore.

I lift my head, turning my body around in my seat. Leaning over me is Connor Murphy. He's staring at the screen. At what's sitting there uselessly in a word document.

I go to put my head back in my arms.

"Hey." He quietly speaks. "What happened?"

I don't reply.

"At the cafeteria- did you have some issue with that jerk?"

The table feels moist- my palms aren't sweaty.

"Then-" Connor hesitates. "Can you tell me what happened to your arm?"

I can feel my eye throbbing in pain, Jared really hit it hard.

"Yeah, it probably doesn't matter." I hear him sigh, he's digging around in my backpack.

"I'll sign your arm."

Connor lifts up my left wrist, I hear the marker squeaking against the cast. "You don't deserve what happened in there."

He lets go of my arm once the sharpie isn't squeaking anymore, letting go of my arm and letting it thunk against the keyboard. "Now we can both pretend to have friends."

Does it even matter at this point?

"And... Nobody would notice if I also disappeared tommorow." Connor places the marker somewhere.

I stand.

My body moves past Connor.

He follows me.

All the way to the boy's bathroom.

I go in and put my head in a sink clogged with wet toilet paper, and turn the faucet on.

I don't even remember drowning. But I'm sure I did.

Because I'm back in my room, staring at my laptop with my name typed on the screen.


	7. i

I never really wanted to go to school. I felt tired, and I wasn't really hungry enough to eat breakfast.

But my mother wasn't going to let that happen. First day? No choice. I slept all summer and she just wants me out of my room. I can do that, definitely. I'd sleep at school then. It doesn't make much of a difference. Besides, they don't know what they should be doing with me.

Yet... I felt compelled to go anyways. Call it gut instinct or whatever- but I felt like I should be keeping an eye out for something.

I stare at a water fountain, a nerd talking to a workaholic. Probably friends.

The way the workaholic is always talking I'd say she's annoying him, interrupting the nerd at every chance she got. That's not what bothers me, though, there's just something _missing._ Nerd walks past me, I keep my head down, gaze off and down at the _incredibly interesting_ floor.

There's a sharpie between my boots. I pick it up, now becoming property of me.

Oddly, it smells like pine needles- no.. an apple pie, it easily connects my emotions to the orchard I used to visit.

Pine needles.

Apple pie.

Pine.

Apple.

 _Both_. I decided, sticking it im my coat pocket. The bell had rung, but I don't really care about that. Yet I'm dragged to homeroom by my little sister. A perk of being me I guess.

• • •

I got singled out for being on my phone. Fun.

But that doesn't bother me like it should have. Today is... _wrong._ Heading to the cafeteria was fine, the nerd from the water fountain said something shitty about my hair. I ignored him, and glance at the trash cans.

Some pale geek with glasses and an afro, that's normal. Skinny tall geek next to him with a tinfoil thing. Also normal.

I got myself a cheese stick, nothing else. Though- there was a free smushed sandwich on the floor. Not peanutbutter- but still kind of good.

• • •

I ate in the computer lab so I could work on not being an existence in the way of another.

An hour passed, lunch now over, and I'm the only one in the computer lab.

I kept glancing at the printer every ten minutes. Maybe I thought that there'd be something there? Never was, but I kept glancing anyway.

The computer lab was dead quiet, which wasn't helping with the feeling of loneliness. I never noticed this before- but...

Rooms are so large when it's just myself in them.

I take out the marker I found, pop the cap off, and write my name on one of the chairs.

An impulsive decision that felt _right._


	8. ii

I didn't eat breakfast, but I went to school like my mother wanted me. Got driven by Zoe (crashed a car _once_ and I suddenly can't have driving privileges).

This day is weirdly familiar. It's like deja vu if it was a brick to the head.

I'm staring at a water fountain for no reason, because apparently it's the most interesting thing I've ever seen. Or maybe I'm thirsty.

There's two people there. I listen in on whatever they're talking about. It's better than just standing around uselessly.

"Jared, how was your summer?"

"Well, my bunk dominated in capture the flag and I got with this girl from Israel-"

"Mine was productive, I did three internships and ninety hours of community service."

"Well this girl I got with is going to, like, be in the army-"

"I made some great friends- even though I was busy- there was this girl named Clarissa, or Ca-rissa.."

They stopped talking. I guess that means I was noticeably staring and got caught. I look at the ground and pick up a sharpie. "...did you drop this."

I get a blank stare from both of them. "The sharpie- did you drop it." I hold it out.

The guy called Jared takes it. "No, but- woah this stinks of pine needles." He says, scrunching his nose.

"Something's missing." I say, impulsively.

"Missing? I think the only thing that you're missing is a gun." He says, probably joking.

I purposefully bump into him as I walk. What a dick.

As I walk through the hall, I notice that there's a locker without a lock. So I open it. The lock could be inside- but I was mostly just looking for answers.

There's some papers, and I grab one and read the first thing I see: a name.

**Evan Hansen**

Evan?

That name sounds familiar.

Zoe has found me, and she sighs in annoyance. "Connor, stop going through people's lockers-"

I hold up my hand to stop Zoe.

"Who is Evan Hansen."

She stares at me like I'm crazy.

"Forget it." I walk away, feeling frustrated.

The only place that felt sensible to go to? The library. I could look up the name there.

• • •

I type in the name Evan Hansen in the school directory, hit enter, and wait.

...waiting.

....and waiting.

Fuck this, it's taking too long and the school's wifi is unreliable. I look about the library for somthing else that could help me out.

My eyes spot a printer and I walk over, reaching out. It's not printing- my hand still stays outstretched though. I feel like I'm having a stroke while keeping my hand outstretched for something that isn't even printing anything.

"Print," I say. "Print something."

Nothing prints, which makes me even more frustrated. So I picked it up and give it a shake.

"Fucking print."

I didn't care if anyone saw me. I just wanted that thing to do something. Still nothing. I put it back down- carefully- it won't help me.

It's making me feel as if I was insane. That and the feeling of something missing that won't go away. I'm not giving up until I solve this crap.

• • •

I walk into the cafeteria, head low and mind occupied with the question: _Who is Evan Hansen?_

Shaking my wrist, my braclets clink together. It feels like the gears of my head are stuck.

 _"Love the new hair length, "_ I hear. _"_ _Very school-shooter chic."_

I stop walking and turn on my heels. What the fuck did this kid just say. I stare daggers at him.

It's Jared.

First the gun joke, now this.

"I was kidding." He tells me. "It's a joke."

"Yeah, no, it's funny." I grumble, fists clenched. "I'm laughing my ass off, can't you tell?"

He doesn't look cocky anymore. Good.

I step closer. "Am I not wheezing hard enough for you?"

He laughs at me, which makes me angrier.

"You're such a freak." He said to me, trying to get away. I won't let him.

I chase after Jared. "You think I'm a freak?"

No answer.

"I'm not the freak." I pick up my pace.

He walks faster.

"You're the fucking fr-"

I lost my traction, and my boot gets caught.

It feels like a bomb blast knocked me forwards.

But it wasn't a bomb. It was the damn lunch table, my boot got caught on one of the wheeled legs sticking out.

My braclets are no help to me. They weigh me down, making me fall faster.

I feel like I'm falling for eternity.

...

Am I on the ground? I'm not exactly sure.

Jared's vanished, and people walk by. What they say isn't fucking helpful. At all.

I look up, there above me is Zoe. She's not about to help me when I previously caused a scene. I feel shaken, probably look like it too.

I should stayed home. Hiding is good. It has a sense of safety.

I-

This feels extremely important. The feeling of humiliation. Did I do this to someone? Did I push someone in the cafeteria? I feel like I _should_ know.

But I don't.

I just want to dissappear from the cafeteria. My hands bring myself up to a sitting position. I feel something soft and plastic-like. I clasp my hand around it.

It's a sandwich.

I stand.

Written in sharpie, on the plastic wrapped sandwich, is the name _Evan Hansen._

The feeling wasn't something. It was someone.

_• • •_

I'm digging through office directory files to find that damn Evan kid.

It's pure luck that there isn't a single adult in this office. Luck that I'm taking advantage of. I toss and turn the place over, looking for that file.

Hansen? Nope. That's not even an H last name. Just some D last name with- woah holy shit what a fucking record.

Hansen? No, just some kid with a stupid last name that probably embarrasses him during role call. I toss the file aside.

I found it.

Evan Hansen's file. I go through it looking for an address. Whatever isn't his address I shove back into the file case.

Here it is, I take it out and quickly fold it into my pocket. I'll visit this as soon as I leave this office.


	9. One day, forever

I've been watching documentaries in my room. It's the only thing I want to do.

My eye was completely fine by the time I was sent back after drowning. It didn't matter to me though, because I'd spent the day asleep in my bed.

When I was tired of documentaries, I pulled out my phone and looked through posts until I was tired of reading them. I've practically memorized what post is posted and what it is. If I felt tired, I slept.

Documentaries, posts, sleep, repeat.

If mom came in about the twenty- I'd tell her that I felt too nauseous to eat. I didn't touch the empty word document, and I ignored my mom if she called me.

I feel trapped. Isolated. Unworthy.

Lonely.

Is this how he felt? Dying to only be noticed that he was ever alive in the first place. I think I understand him a bit better now.

I'm ready for this to end, for me to finally crack my skull open on the college dorm sidewalk. But deep down, I know that will never happen.

Suddenly, the room is bright. I tremble, my eyes squinting in the light, adjusting slowly. I can see a figure. Standing at the end of my bed. Could it be? I can register the silhouette better now.

My eyes adjust to the light. I hear a sound

_Clink._

Is it a ghost?

_Clink._

Is it an angel?

_Clink._

Is this death?

_Clink._

_Clink._

I close my eyes.

_Silence._

"Evan?" There's a voice.

I stay silent.

"Are you..."

I open my eyes.

"...Evan Hansen?"

It's Connor Murphy.


	10. iii

I look at the address, then at the house in front of me. I turn, on the grass, under a tree, is someone that can confirm if this is the right place.

"Hey. Is this the right house?" I ask.

They look up and put on a pair of glasses.

Staring at the paper with Evan's address, then at the house. I'm given a nod of confirmation.

It's confirmed. This is his house.

"Thanks." I say, walking away.

• • •

When I found him, he was hiding in his room. I had turned on the lights- it was dark- but I guess that's how he wanted it to stay.

I took a step forward. It was dead silent.

_Clink._

I could hear my own braclets bumping against my coat.

_Clink._

Evan squints at me. He looks as if he's kept himself in his room for a whole week yet, there's no evidence of it.

_Clink._

I notice the cast on his left arm. I grip the sharpie.

_Clink._

I left school before my last two classes began to find this guy. Now I'm finally here. "Are you Evan Hansen?" I ask, waiting for his reply.

There's a long pause, then he speaks.

"Yes."

"I've been looking for you."

"You.. have?"

"Why else would I be here?" I say. "I'm not hiding from a rabid dog."

He sits on the side of his bed. "Why?"

"I can't answer that Evan." I lean on the wall.

"What if," He speaks up. "What if I told you that I felt trapped?"

I smile a little. "That makes two of us."


	11. It just takes a little patience

That day was so surprising. Connor Murphy entered my house.

It wasn't until then, because everything had melted into one thing, but now? I'm glad he came.

He brought me out of my room and we sat down in my backyard, under a tree. And- we just talked. Like _friends_. I felt so low that I didn't know how'd I even leave my room, but he changed that. I told him everything.

 _So, it's like Groundhog Day._ He said.

I looked at him, a little confused, yet understanding him. _Yeah- like.. Groundhog Day. With Bill Murray._

_You jumped out a window to kill yourself, but were sent back- all the way back to today- just for the chance to prevent me from ending everything?_

_Yes._ I didn't want to hide it from him, if only on that day. _And I want to change that, you didn't deserve to dissappear._

His eyes looked so hopeful. I thought I saw him tear up- maybe it was just my imagination.

_Connor are you okay?_

_Not really, but..._ He takes in a deep breath. _That's the nicest thing anyone has wanted to do for me._

_Other than... Miguel?_

I look down at my cast, he'd signed it only a few minutes before we came outside.

Connor only nodded.

Him and I talked for hours, sharing intrests. I shared as much tree knowledge as I could with him. As the sun went down, I gave him the one thing that I could before starting the day all over again.

I gave him a hug.

And in return, he gave me hope.

The moment the day began I closed my laptop, got out of bed, and headed to school with the sharpie. The one thing I never had before, not truly until now, was confidence.

I used today, tomorrow, and three other days to learn everything about and befriend Alana Beck.

I now had a perfect routine for her I did every time the day reset.

"Hey, Alana." I'd begin.

"Oh, hey." She smiled.

"How was your summer?"

"Well, I did ninety hours of community service. It was very busy." She said.

"Oh- I saw your posts about that. You must've made some nice friends while working."

"I did! What's about your summer?"

"My summer? I worked at Ellison park as an apprentice park ranger. I fixed up the park's sign along with some other things."

"That sounds great."

"Hey, do you want to sign my cast? I broke it during my time there, it was an accident, but it'd be nice to have some names on it."

"Sure, where should I sign?" She takes the sharpie, I point her to a good spot. Alana signs there.

"Thanks Alana."

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Evan Hansen."

"Have a good first day Evan."

And she'd walk away.

• • •

I learned that not bringing my lunch was the key to nobody getting shoved or hurting someone in the cafeteria. I would go hungry- I knew that. It was worth it each time.

Because no one was hurt, emotionally or physically. All I'd have to do was drag Jared away before he could make his joke. And it worked.

Some days- I admit- I did things I would normally NEVER do _ever._ And it was **thrilling**.

I've stolen apples fifty times, pirated movies about one hundred and twenty eight times, even gave Jared a taste of his own medicine about a thousand and twelve.

I talked to the two geeks that sit near the trash cans. I've learned their names, their lives, everything.

The brown haired one in the multi-striped shirt is Jeremy Heere, he lives with his father (who is also divorced), is friends with Michael Mell. Smokes weed in his friend's basement and plays video games.

Jeremy has a crush on a girl (named Christine Caligula). He wants to have the courage to give her a chocolate Shakespeare.

I can understand that he's nervous. I'd also feel nervous about confronting Zoe with a gift.

He's the bottom of the school social hierarchy- just like I am.

Michael Mell has two moms, he likes buying soft drinks at Spencer's, Bob Marley, hanging out with Jeremy, and guys.

I was surprised when he told me that he was gay. I asked him questions, of course, and he answered them. If I could be honest- I'd rather have him as a family friend- but I'd never be able to say that aloud. Michael is nice, and he really cares about his friend.

They both like retro stuff- which is really amazing. 

I only wish that Jared was as kind as Michael.

I only ever started a fight ten times. I lost the first time, then learned over time what to avoid; what to throw and hit. It was surprisingly fun- if slightly painful.

The only thing I did once was smoking drugs with some of the bad kids.

And I always had fun, no matter what crazy thing I did.

I've seen Groundhog Day about a million times now. Ghostbusters about a half a million, and To Kill a Mockingbird more than both combined.

If I ever get out of this, I could probably act in a remake of To Kill a Mockingbird- but that'd be weird, so I won't.

• • •

Jared was- well- difficult. There was not a single routine with him that was one hundred percent perfect. I'd even admit that it is a challenge that I was motivated to overcome.

No day was perfect, but I kept trying. Maybe it even helped me leave my shell.

I could count down the seconds it took for Jared to appear at the water fountain.

Even say word for word what he would say to me (creeping him out of course). Yet he'd never sign my cast. I guess it was never meant to be signed by him.

• • •

My mom looked happier and happier the more I got out of bed, excited for the 'first day'.

I even saw her tear up and cancel the appointment for Dr. Sherman. That now happens at an increasing rate.

To see my mom's eyes full of hope, full of happiness, and no longer as tired as they once were- made every day feel worth trying.

I made progress. A lot of progress. And I wanted to make more.

I was breaking in my own glove. With my own shaving cream and mattress. The more effort I put into the days, the more the glove felt less stiff and awkward.


	12. What came before

The one person I had yet to focus on, the one person that I wanted to learn more about the most, was Zoe.

I did already know a lot: she scribbles stars on the cuffs of her jeans, she dances like the world isn't there, she fills out the quizzes in teen magazines, when she had streaks of blue in her hair- it was beautiful, she plays a guitar in the jazz band at school, when she plays she closes her eyes tightly and-

Okay. Maybe I know almost everything about Zoe Murphy.

That doesn't dissuade me though, because I'm sure there's things that I have yet to learn about her. It's not, like, creepy if she doesn't remember- right?

Probably not.

I step over a bright red backpack, its owner currently busy talking with his best friend. My mind is mulling over the possibilities of how to approach her. Should I just find her and say hi? Is that too casual? Perhaps I could just meet her in the lunch room, like before. She seemed to know my name.

I step over another bright red backpack.

Out of everyone in this school, only two people seem to own similar red backpacks. I've never seen the owner of the second one, but I have gone through the backpack before.

It was a mess; unorganized work from each class crammed into it, a lot of loose leaf paper (presumed to be swiped from classrooms), and two very weird books.

I never looked at the books- I felt as if I shouldn't even touch those.

I look up from the backpack I stepped over, there, in front of me, is Zoe.

I force myself to speak. "Hey-"

She turns around, her hair turns with her. "Oh, hey." Zoe seems to have been talking with someone, but was now talking with me.

"My name is.. Evan."

"I'm Zoe."

"I know."

"You know?"

"No- well. Yes. I know. I saw one of your jazz concerts. I.. love jazz." I pause to take in a breath. "Music of the- the soul."

She laughs. "It is, isn't it?" Zoe moves a strand of hair out of her face. "One of my concerts.. you saw me?"

I nod, a little thrilled now. "Of course- you didn't stand out from the other players- but.. well.. there was something about you. Someone in the background."

She waits for me to go on.

"Playing your part, and making the whole thing sound... good."

Her eyebrow raises in question, did she take it as an insult? Oh no.

"Sorry- I- not _good_.. just.." I shake my head, sighing. "I'm not decent with words."

The person Zoe was talking to before puts a hand on her shoulder. "Give him a moment, let him find the right word."

_Brilliant._

"I'm sure he didn't mean for it to sound insulting." Zoe sighs.

_Amazing._

"Sometimes people need a moment to think."

_Wonderful._

There are a lot of words I want to use..

She's waiting for me to speak.

"The way you played was... charming. You looked like you were having fun with it." I say, finally deciding on the word.

"Charming?" Zoe looks surprised and a bit flattered. "You really think it was charming?"

I wipe my hands on my pant legs. "O-Of course. Was.. that not the right thing to say?"

"No- don't worry about it." Her face changes expression, a sweet smile now on there. "That's actually pretty sweet."

I look at the other person. "And.. your name?"

"Christine Caligula."

"It's nice to meet you too." I stick out my hand for her to shake. "And you're.. a theater kid?"

"Yes! It's actually quite fun and-"

Zoe stops her there. "I'm sure Evan wouldn't want to be bored to death by one of your whimsical preformance tales."

"Actually- um.." I guesture to the backpack. "Is that yours Christine?"

"No, it's the stagecraft kid's backpack"

"The.. _who?"_

"That kid's just someone a part of the stagecraft class. Not really a big deal, but-"

Zoe stops Christine again. "He's really passionate about theater, but he's never really said much."

"...that's his backpack?"

She nods. "I should probably bring it to him before it gets reported as a bomb threat by mistake."

"Oh. Okay.. see you, then."

Zoe and I watch Christine walk off with the bag.

"Zoe.. could I sit with you at lunch- if it's alright that is." I blurt out.

I see her smile again, and the words I hoped to hear leave her lips. "Sure, that sounds nice."


	13. If that's all that we need it to be

I place my left hand on strings two, three, and four. Each finger on its exact place. I strum.

"That's an F chord." Zoe says, moving my fingers to the next one. I can feel how delicately she moves them. Putting them where they belong, even if my movements are restricted by a cast, I press down and strum.

First, third, and fourth strings.

I look up at her. "This is a C chord- right?"

She smiles at me. "Exactly. Try playing them one after the other."

I move my left hand, pushing down the strings in succession with strumming the guitar with my right. My cast thunking lightly on the neck of Zoe's electric guitar.

I begin to play something I've only heard once. That special song.

Strumming, plucking.

_F chord, C chord, again._

_A Minor, F chord, C chord, G chord, A Minor, C chord, G chord, and so on._

I play halfway through, then stop for Zoe's confirmation. "How.. was that? Was it okay?"

"Are you sure this is your first guitar lesson?" She's a bit surprised.

I grip the guitar a little, giving her a bit of a smile. "I used to mess around with an old guitar that my father had before he left for Colorado. I'm a little rusty- but it's starting to come back."

Not a complete truth, but I felt comfortable saying it.

"Do you know any songs, any parts or little bits that you remember?"

"I can play a little bit of Bob Marley's Three Little Birds."

"Go ahead."

• • •

I sit down in the empty band room with Zoe, holding her electric guitar gently in both hands.

"Can I show you something that I've been working on?"

She crosses her arms, ready to listen to something that I've worked on for a long time. I take in a deep breath.

And start playing.

_If I was given one day to learn what I should have done_

_Would you hold it against me to want to understand?_

_I've seen you sing along to your favorite bands_

_Dance as if the whole world wasn't there_

_The stars on your jeans,_

_The time your hair was streaked with sky_

_And when you fill out quizzes in magazines_

_But would you care to listen?_

_Listen to my_

_Soliloquy_

_We could lie under a great oak tree_

_Sharing thoughts that I have_

_In my soliloquy_

_All the things I've noticed,_

_Everything that no one else does,_

_Except you_

I take a deep breath and place my right hand on one of the pickups to halt the sound.

"What do you think?"

My heart is pounding in anticipation, hands sweating and slightly throbbing from the song that I've played for Zoe.

Any negative thoughts that might've had before were gone, I've spent so much time on this. It was perfect.

"You wrote that?"

I nod.

"It's- wow-" She sighs breathlessly, not finding the words for my performance.

"Do you really think so?" I ask, hoping that I've really impressed her this time.

"Evan, have you considered joining the school's jazz band?"

"No- not really. I'm not really good in front of crowds. Or at public speaking. Or giving presentations."

Zoe's smile fades a little. "That's too bad, we could really use somebody like you in the band."

_Somebody.._

Not _nobody, somebody._

I am _someone_ to her, not a hidden face in the crowd, and no longer a random stranger that was shoved by her brother at lunch that she needs to apologize to.

"Thank you- for listening. I'm glad that you enjoyed that."

She stands, walking towards me and taking back her guitar. "Hey, Evan?"

"Y-Yeah?"

I feel a brief moment of soft warmth on my cheek.

"That was kind of sweet."

I touch her hand with mine and look into her eyes. "This is for you."

Zoe opens her hand once I take away mine.

"An acorn?"

"It's- yeah. You can grow a tree with it. It takes some time but, I think trees are beautiful."

She pockets the acorn.

"You really are something, Evan Hansen."


	14. iv

I used to own the book _The Little Prince_. I'm not sure what happened to it, but I like to imagine that it got lost in the attic while finding a way back to the stars.

Stupid, right?

Well, I still _kind of_ believe it. I guess some part of me has been kept away for so long that now it's starting to escape its cage.

Or I'm currently so fucking high that I'm hallucinating about flying books. That's fun too.

I put the pencil down and look out my window, wondering about him. It's been so long.

For a while, we've only really talked through text. He doesn't reply much, but it makes me happy when he eventually responds.

Outside of my window, I imagine him standing there, happy to see me again.

I look down at my drawing.

I guess my thoughts about a book was what I drew.

But it's.. different.

Almost like it's moving. Waving at me.

 _Fuck it,_ I think to myself. _If I'm hallucinating I might as well.._

"..hello." I say.

"If you please, draw me your friend."

"You want to meet him?"

"Draw me your friend."

"Sure."

High or dreaming, I feel an unbearable loneliness unlike before. So I draw him.

"What is your friend's name?"

"His name is Miguel."

"Is he an adult?"

"No, but he's taught me more than any adult could."

"Adults are quite odd, are your adults odd?"

"Very," I smile. "They are very odd."

"What things do they do?"

"They treat me like I'm a thorn in their side."

"A thorn?"

"A nuisance that only hurts someone. Thornbushes are nuisances. Roses aren't."

I hear a laugh as I close my eyes. I'm tired.

"Goodnight. Rest well. I will watch over your friend for you."

I do not reply, my head has already hit the pillow.

That was... definitely the most unusually comforting hallucination I've had.

One day, I'll see him again.

My dearest friend.

The one who tamed me.


	15. Mockingbird

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Today's going to be an amazing day and here's why.**

Today's the day. It's finally time to run through the best first day. I'm a little nervous but that’s okay. It's all trial and error.

I close my laptop and head for the door, hugging my mom and sticking both the twenty and the sharpie into my pocket. "Have a good day mom."

"You too honey." She gives me a light squeeze before heading to her car. "Have a good first day."

"I will."

• • •

I approach the water fountain, and wave to Alana. "Alana, hey, could you sign my cast?" 

She smiles and signs my cast as I listen to her talk about her busy summer. I thank her, taking back the marker and talk about my summer at Ellison Park.

"I think that's pretty productive for summer." Her smile never fades. "Do you think you'll work there again after senior year?"

"Of course, I'll try to get the job again. It was fun. Happy first day."

"Happy first day Evan." Alana turns and walks away.

I step back, pocketing the marker before it gets knocked out of my hand. Then appears Jared. Right on time too.

"You're unusually social today." Jared remarks, right on time.

"Yeah. I am." I smile. "I feel good today."

"What for? You broke your arm probably scrolling through Zoe Murphy's Instagram on your off brand phone and-"

I laugh at Jared. "No, really, I didn't. The truth is I fell out of a tree. I'm an acorn."

He snorts. "Well then _acorn boy,_ maybe you're in high spirits now, but eventually you'll be back to your anxiety ridden self."

I hand him the sharpie. "I don't think so, I feel like changing myself."

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"I want you to sign my cast Jared."

"You're nuts, you know that right?"

I give him a smile.

"Fine," He rolls his eyes and writes his name on the inside of my arm. "There. You happy now?"

"I am, thanks Jared."

"Don't mention it. Tell your mom to mine that I was nice to you, gotta pay for my car insurance."

"I will. See you later."

He tosses the marker back to me, I catch it. "Have a good day Jared."

"Whatever."

• • •

"Hey, can I sit with you?" I approach Jared.

"Dude _-"_

Connor Murphy walks past us, I drag Jared away from the cash register to make us out of Connor's hearing range.

Jared yanks his arm back from mine. "Evan seriously, what's going on with you today? You're weirder than normal."

"I wanted to sit with you. Besides, we shouldn't say anything rude about Connor."

He raises an eyebrow. "Something's going on, isn't it? There's a reason why you're weird today. Tell me what's up."

"Nothing's up. I just want to have a good day."

"You can tell me."

I sit down and pat his shoulder. "I mean it Jared, I just want to have a decent day."

Jared shakes his head. "There's something you aren't telling me."

I sigh. "I'm not going to hide anymore."

"Evan, all you do is hide. This is a total shift from what you're usually like." He leans in. "Did you get antidepressants?"

My hands are sweating a little, and I wipe them off on my pants. "No new medicine. Can't I just try to be different?"

He scoffs, making a sarcastic comment.

"You're trying to be different? That's the best joke I've heard."

"I'll talk to Zoe sometime today."

"Okay, you're insane."

"I'm not crazy. I'm just trying something new."

He bites into a sandwich. "I can't wait to see the new you."

• • •

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

**Today's an amazing day and here's why. Because today I am out there. I've gotten two signatures- and it's a good start to the school year.**

**I was me today- the real me. I didn't try to pretend to be someone I'm not. All my effort felt productive.** **The one person I have yet to meet is Connor Murphy.**

**I know you're going to find this at the printer- but don't worry. This isn't something written for pleasure or is some kind of bad joke, it's a letter for my therapist. I hope we can be friends.**

**Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, Me**

I hint print and stand up from my chair, feeling more energized than I have in a long time. Saying exactly what I feel? It's something that I've been wanting to do for a long time. There were small doubts, but they felt like nothing.

_Today is..._

I turn around, Connor's at the printer already. I reach for the printer and he speaks up.

"So, what happened to your arm?"

"I broke it," I say. "I fell out of a tree, then I waiting for someone- anybody really- to come get me. No one came though."

He snorts. "That is the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Maybe come up with something better."

"Something better, like..?"

"Say you were battling some racist dude, like it’s a battle wound or whatever." He moves a strand of hair out of his face. "To kill a mockingbird, at the end. Remember?"

"Yeah.. do you want to sign it?"

Connor looks at my cast. "You've already got two signatures."

"Those... I had to constantly ask for. My mom wanted to have my cast signed- these are kind of empty names." I pause for a breath. "They aren't friends, but I want her to be happy." I mutter.

Connor studies me carefully after absorbing what I've said. "Why did you fall out of that tree?" He crosses his arms, waiting for my answer.

I sit back down and grip my left arm. "The truth..."

"Yes."

"I fixed up a sign," I begin. "I put so much work into it.. I thought my father would like it. I sent him a photo of it- my proud accomplishment."

_Connor seems so big..._

"He responded." I hesitate for a solid minute. "My father wanted to share something 'special' with me. His own accomplishment."

He's taking in every word.

My eyes feel like they're burning.

"He sent.." I shake my head, blinking away tears. "He sent a picture back. An ultrasound with a message: _say hello to your brother._ It was like I meant nothing to him."

"You fell out of that tree on purpose."

I nod.

"You wanted to dissappear."

I'm shaking, covering my eyes with my palms. I hear the sound of boots shuffling, then paper being placed down forcefully on a desk.

At some point, I realize the sounds of crying are mine.

I'm enveloped in a dark shroud.

It's warm.

"You wanted to make your exit. But you failed."

I did. I failed and I waited.

I wanted to leave the world so badly, have people forget about me and live on. That didn't happen. I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm still in someone's memory, unforgotten.

The dark shroud embraces me tighter. I can feel an uncomfortable pressure on my back.

"Hey.."

_I feel so small.._

"It's alright."

_I'm not meant to be a part of it._

"I'm here."


	16. Acorn

This day isn't better, it's not perfect. What it is, is a disaster. A complete failure on my part. I wanted this to stop. To see tommorow was something I wanted to selfishly accomplish.

I'm not only trapped in today, I'm trapped in my own thoughts. What I felt? It wasn't 'new' or 'different' at all. It was that fake Evan. He resurfaced after all this time.

I didn't want to deal with the worst part of me.

It was selfish to think that I'd be able to have a perfect day. Hope, effort, spiral. Hope, effort, spiral. Hope.. It's a constant loop of emotions. Never ending today, yesterday, the day before it.. I don't know what day it is at all.

I feel myself lowered down. The ground isn't hard, but it's solid. My head is hidden between my legs.

Connor had taken me put of the computer lab. I don't want to know where I am right now, I'm only tired.

"Chin up, I have something to help you."

I lift my head slightly.

In his hand is drugs. Specifically: it's pot.

"Just try it. Nobody cares what I do, so I drown it all out."

I take the weed from him.

"Just breathe it man, that's all you have to do."

I do as he instructs, breathing in as much as I could before having a coughing fit.

Connor chuckles. "First time?"

No- but yes. I've had brownies at some point, not whatever this is called.

He sits down and takes in his own. "It's better to be as high as an astronaut. You can just do whatever you want."

Whatever I want..

"No one's going to bother us. My parents are both at work, and Zoe shouldn't be home for a few hours."

What do I want..?

Connor looks over at me, I look back at him.

"That sounds- yeah. It's fine." Today was rough, I just want a break from the constant patterns. "A break.."

"A break from the world." He takes in another breath. "Trust me, it's good. Ignore the world and just do everything by impulse." Connor exhales on his last word.

"Impulse?"

"Yep, it's how I got to being here right now. Straight up impulsive choices."

I lay down and stare up at the ceiling, saying the first thing that comes to mind. "Impulse is just something I wish I had. I'm here now because I didn't say or do anything to stop anything from happening."

"I saw the moment your eyes broke in the computer lab."

"Yeah?"

"It was the moment you looked at me. Everything you were pretending just unravled."

I take in another breath. "I pretend a lot. I pretend to be an okay son, that I'm doing okay in therapy, that I'm just _okay."_ I let my arms flop on the floor. "Fuck being okay. I'm tired of it."

Connor laughs, rolling off of his bed. "I'd say you're pretty damn impulsive."

"You think?"

"Yeah, it's kind of there. Just throw all reason out to the curb."


	17. End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Groundhog day.

I wake up.

A warm blanket over me, and my head on the arm of a couch. It's not my couch. It's the Murphy's.

Looking about, I check the time. It's noon. The date?

I pull out my laptop. It's.. the day I decided to fall. The place isn't as gloomy as it used to be, and there's some photos of me and Connor.

Speaking of which, my eyes become covered by hands that smell of strange plants. "Guess who?"

I take a moment to think, but of course, it's Connor.

"It's you."

"Yep."

"Guess what day it is?"

"February second?"

He takes his hands off of my face, and lets out a snort. "No tree boy, it's groundhog day."

"Oh." I never thought about it, but it was. My eyes turn to the radio, I turn it on.

_They say we're young and we don't know_

_Won't find out until we grow_

_Well I don't know if all that's true_

_'Cause you got me, and baby-_

"I got you babe." Connor wraps his hands around mine and begins to slow dance with me, I go along with it because... it's sweet.

The photos on the wall, the yearbook, they all have our friends. Change came, fast and hard. I'm glad it did.

"Hey, Connor?"

"Hmm?" He looks down at me. Eye contact. It's so intimate. I was chasing after the wrong Murphy, I realized that.

That day we both got so high, and it was sudden, but I had kissed him. After that I wanted to kiss him again; Connor had kissed me in return before I could. The details became blurry afterwards.

I lay my head on his arm.

"Happy Groundhog day."


End file.
